


Evening at the 'rents

by glitteredsins, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [83]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee (TV) RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 13:59:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14106894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredsins/pseuds/glitteredsins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	Evening at the 'rents

  
**players only. backdated to December 2013, in Wellington, New Zealand, the same day as[Stephen meets Antony's parents.](https://antony-starr.dreamwidth.org/9828.html)**

_warnings: none_

It's been the most amazing day - meeting Antony's parents, his sisters, brothers-in-law and the nieces - amazing, exhausting and frustrating. Although they've been physically affectionate with each other Stephen feels like he's not been able to really get his hands on his lover since they got here - on top of that he's tired and tipsy.

They're barely at the bedroom door before he's crowding in against his lover, breath hot, eyes half lidded with need.  "Tony..."

"Yeah?" Antony grins, ever the tease.

Stephen actually stamps his foot in frustration, and reaches up to grab a handful of Antony's shirt to haul him in. "Want you," he growls against his lover's mouth.

Fuck. Cock giving a rough throb, Antony shoves the door closed behind them, making sure he locks it. While he hopes his mum would knock, he's not going to count on it. "Want you more," he growls, cupping Stephen's ass and giving it a squeeze as he grinds against him.

"Doubt that," Stephen growls back, biting at Antony's lower lip and pulling insistently on his shirt, not caring in the least if he rips off buttons.

Antony groans and pulls away but only enough to get his damn shirt off and then his hands are back on Stephen, working at his boy's clothes.

"I want you to fuck me, I want you to ram that cock of yours so far up my ass I can taste you," Stephen demands, breathless and desperate, he bats away Antony's hands and divests himself of his pants and shorts.

"Then you'd better turn around," Antony says, dropping his own jeans to the floor. "Show me that ass and how badly you want my fucking cock."

Stephen hits the bed, ass up, head down, and he's reaching behind himself to tug his butt cheeks apart, to slide fingers into his ass.

"You think you can keep quiet or do I need to gag you?" Antony says, grabbing lube and a t-shirt from his bag and climbing on the bed behind Stephen.

"Gag," Stephen hates the idea, but he also doesn't have to want to censor himself instead of being allowed to give himself up fully to his Sir and lover.

Antony ties the t-shirt around Stephen's head, checking quickly that it's not too tight and the fabric's not over his nose. He slicks his aching cock with lube, two fingers then three fucked in and out of his boy's hole, roughly opening him up.

Stephen braces himself with his hands, shuffling his knees wider to steady himself, sure his lover is not going to be holding back. He bears down, feels his asshole flare around Antony's fingers. _Fuck me...fuck me..._.

The quick stretch is all Stephen gets before Antony's pulling his fingers free and lining up, the head popped through that first tight ring of muscle with a low groan. Christ. He grips Stephen's hips and pushes deeper, making room for himself in his boy's body.

Stephen bites back on his moan - that first intrusion is always tight, exquisitely so. He pants hot and damp through the cotton of the tee, before inhaling hard through his nose, his body is vibrating with need, with his utter raw raging _need_ for his lover and Sir.

Bottoming out, Antony rocks his hips, savouring the tight heat of his boy's body for a long moment before he pulls back and slams in again.

Shoved up the bed by the force of Antony's thrust, Stephen scrabbles to find a better anchor, grunting hard into the gag as his body lights up with pleasurepain.

Nothing feels as good as this. Letting loose and fucking Stephen so hard it hurts _him_. His cock shoved into that hole, his cunt, again and again. Breeding his bitch. Hands digging bruises into Stephen's skin as he pounds into him, his rhythm and pace downright brutal.

Stephen's eyes roll, and even with the best of intentions and a mouthful of fabric, he can't stay silent, muted cries pour from his throat with each punch of Antony's body and he lets himself go - flying with the pain and the brutality of being loved like this.

Antony holds out as long as he can, pleasure thrumming through his veins, his cock buried in his boy's cunt over and over until that same pleasure peaks, crashing over him, and he pumps his hips, cock spurting hot and thick as he grits his teeth against shouting.

Flushed, sweaty, aching Stephen paws at the gag, needing it off so he can breathe properly, Antony's draped over his back, heavy, solid, hot breath dancing along Stephen's skin.

Antony helps Stephen get rid of the t-shirt and eases out with a soft hiss, dropping onto his back on the bed beside him. "Fuck..."

Slowly unfolding himself, Stephen turns around and settles beside his lover, eyes closed, breathing ragged. "Yeah..." he agrees, his voice low and rough. It was exactly the kind of fuck he needed, though he's no closer to getting off himself, his dick had softened the moment Antony had started fucking him so hard.

"You want my mouth or my hand?" Antony offers. While it's fun to keep Stephen on edge at home or when it's just them travelling, he figures he could really use the release here.

"Hand," Stephen turns his head, "Can I use this to clean up?" He holds up the tee, he can feel the tickle of semen as it starts to slip from his body, he's not sure he wants his nearly-mother-in-law to see cum stained sheets.

"Yeah, of course," Antony nods, shifting onto his side. He gives Stephen a minute to clean up and then wraps his hand around his lover's mostly soft cock.

Sliding his arm around Antony's shoulder Stephen leans in, his Sir smells of sex, male and musky and he nuzzles against sweaty skin.

Stephen's cock quickly swells in his grasp and Antony rubs his thumb over the slit, smearing precome around the head. He can still hear the jumble of voices outside, music still playing, and there's something strangely hot about doing this, here, right under their noses.

Stephen's breath hitches, and his fingers press into Antony's skin. "Talk to me...tell me how I'm yours..." he begs softly.

"You're my beautiful boy," Antony murmurs, stroking slowly but firmly, careful not to tug on the still-healing piercing. " _Mine._ You belong to me. Every fucking inch of you."

"Yes..." Stephen keens softly, "All of me, always." _Beautiful boy..._ Those words echo in his mind, making his heart squeeze and his belly tighten.

"You're my everything," Antony continues, nodding, working Stephen's cock. "My prized possession. My lover, my boy... I won't ever let you go."

One heel pressed into the bed, Stephen arches up into that wicked touch, his balls pulled up high and tight as he hurtles toward the inevitable. "Please, please Sir?"

Antony nods. "Come for me, boy."

Pressing his mouth against Antony's shoulder, Stephen cries out as he orgasms, his body bucking once, twice, three times as he spills his semen over his lover's fingers and his own belly.

Wet heat slicks his fingers and Antony groans, his still softening cock giving a jerk of its own. "Good boy," he murmurs, gentling his touch.

Eyes closed, his skin flushed and damp Stephen pants softly against Antony's skin. His body twitches as it settles, heavy and languid in Antony's arms. "Hmm, thank you Sir," he slurs out. "Boy is used..." It's not often he slides into his third person mode purely from sex, but it seems indicative of how erratic his head space has been in recent weeks.

Antony smiles at that. He wipes his hand on the already soiled t-shirt and tosses it over his shoulder, shifting so Stephen's pressed even closer. "Love you," he murmurs, kissing the top of his head.

"Love you too," Stephen mumbles around a barely stifled yawn, he's already half asleep, content and warm.


End file.
